Degrees of Suffering
by Adia7
Summary: COMPLETE Professor McGonagall finds Professor Snape in the Forbidden Forest, and from then on, nothing is as it should have been. An AU story that begins towards the end of OotP, told from Professor McGonagall's point of view.
1. Chapter One

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters or locations you are about to see in the story. They are property of J.K. Rowling, and she is the only person who makes any money from their existence.  
  
A/N: This is a quasi-companion piece to "Interlude" and "Asking the Question," but it could also stand alone.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
It started out as a routine patrol of the grounds. Somehow, the other teachers had convinced themselves that I had to take my turn walking through the halls and along the borders of the Forest all night. In all honesty, I hardly minded. I would never have been able to sleep, anyway. It's foolish, I know, but with everything happening in the outside world, I have felt this horrible, encompassing guilt for cloistering myself in the safety of Hogwarts. It grated on me when I tried to sleep.  
  
Pulling my cloak more tightly around my shoulders, I walked out of the building. The first true snowfall of the year was just beginning to fall, slow, languid flakes trickling down.  
  
I heard him before I saw him, a scraping noise as someone clawed at the trunk of a tree. Whispered incantations in a familiar voice. Horrified, I hurried across the field to just inside the tree line.  
  
He looked awful. Pale, bloody, and shaky, Severus was struggling to stand and ripping off a great deal of skin from his fingertips in the process. I approached him anxiously, forcing myself to remember the training we'd had in the Order, how to deal with torture victims.  
  
I began to speak slowly from where I stood. "Severus? Severus, love, can you hear me? Do you know where you are? Can you tell me what happened? Severus?"  
  
"M-Min...?"  
  
"Yes." I hurried across the expanse between us, knelt beside him, and took his hands in mine. "I have you. You're safe."  
  
"Min... Min... Minerva, I..."  
  
"It's all right, Severus, my dear child. You're safe. I'll take you up to Albus; everything will be-"  
  
Panic flittered across his features. He withdrew against the tree, beginning to shake in earnest. "No, please... please, not... not tonight. Not tonight, I can't..."  
  
"What can't you do, child?"  
  
"He'll make me show him, and... I know it's selfish, but... I can't relive it... so soon..."  
  
"Severus, Albus needs to know-"  
  
"I don't want him in my mind. Minerva, not tonight, please," Severus whispered. The last time I heard anyone so frightened was during the last war, and it certainly wasn't about spending time with Albus.  
  
I realized, of course, that Albus would not have appreciated my undermining his orders, particularly in regards to the War. However, one night could hardly hurt in the long run. I sincerely doubted that Albus could garner anything from Severus in such a state anyway, so I said, "All right. All right. It's all right. I'll take you to my chambers; he won't look for you there. I have an extra room. It's small, but it's warm. I promise I won't tell him, child."  
  
"Promise?" He echoed softly, nervously.  
  
"That's right, Severus. I promise."  
  
He wrapped his fingers around my hands, and when I helped him stand, he leaned against me gratefully. I helped him walk into the castle. I helped him climb up the steps and into my darkened chambers. Together, we lit only one small candle. Severus smiled at the light, at me, obviously grateful. I guided him into the guest room and tucked him into the twin bed. His feet dangled over the end, until he curled into a tiny ball, burying his head among the pillows. I sat on the bed beside him. I ran my fingers through his hair; they came away covered in blood.  
  
Revulsion rose in me, but I knew better than to let him see it. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I said, "Draco spent my entire class today making eyes at Abigail O'Connell. You know her, don't you? She's in Ravenclaw, very long, auburn hair and green eyes? She and Draco worked together on their independent study project last term; they had the highest grade in the class."  
  
"He told me," Severus rasped.  
  
Just as I was about to laugh at him, someone knocked on my doors. The smile fell off Severus's face. I murmured, "It's probably just one of my students. They are prone to nightmares lately, especially the very young ones."  
  
Thus saying, I left the room. Without asking who was there, I opened the door, expecting to see a bleary eyed child with a bathrobe haphazardly fastened around him. Instead, in purple velvet robes and half-moon spectacles, the Headmaster stood with a tragic look in his eyes. "Albus?"  
  
"Is Severus with you, Minerva?"  
  
He spoke with such wretchedness that it took me a rather ungraceful moment to realize that his question required a response. I murmured, "Yes, he is, but he is rather outside himself at the moment."  
  
"I must see him," he said. To my shock, he wandered into my chambers. Could he not have waited for an invitation? I had never seen him in such a decrepit mood. He swept through to my guestroom; I followed close behind him.  
  
When he came into the room, Severus was half-asleep and half- unconscious, so it took him a long moment to realize that Albus had come. Then, slowly, he focused on the Headmaster's face, and he strove to rise. He failed miserably, collapsing against the bloodstained pillows.  
  
"S-sir, I... I didn't mean..." Severus spoke. And though his voice was more lucid than it had been in the forest, it made me pray for his former confusion. He sounded so lost, so frightened. I watched him struggle for breath and eek out, "I didn't do it to disobey you. Please."  
  
He was always so strong, had always been, no matter what happened, how it affected him, anything. I respected him for that. Sometimes, I worried about him because of that. Never as much as I do right now.  
  
Albus sat on the edge of the bed and rested his hand on Severus's face. Immediately, Severus's eyes slammed shut and his shoulders went utterly rigid, but he did not withdraw. It was much later that I realized that he knew better. Withdrawing would suggest opposition, and opposition would warrant more punishment.  
  
"You know I can be gentle," he said, sounding quite near tears. "I cannot make it pleasant, but it can be a means through which I help you."  
  
"Please... don't send me away. Please."  
  
"If you do not wish to be sent away, you must heed me," Albus said. He did not sound truly angry; he sounded like a tolerant father chiding an errant child. "You must obey me without fail, without question, in every regard. That way, I can take care of you when you need me to. That way, you can remain here, where you will be safe."  
  
Fervently, frightened, Severus vowed, "I will. I will obey you, Master, I swear it."  
  
I had heard him call Albus "Master" before, absolutely unconsciously. I felt Albus stiffen; he had always hated that Severus saw such a correlation between him and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But he hid his disappointment. "Why did you not come to me, Severus? What happened tonight?"  
  
Severus whispered, "So tired... So- so much pain... Master, I'm sorry..."  
  
Albus recommenced stroking the blood-matted hair, unheeding of the sticky crimson that stained his fingers. Comfortingly, he said, "I know, child. I could simply perform the spell. Is that what you want?"  
  
"Don't want... But... Do what you think is best," Severus's voice scraped angrily against his throat.  
  
"You may sleep when I have finished," Albus promised.  
  
With a smile obviously meant to appease the Headmaster, Severus nodded. Raising his wand, Albus said, "Legilimens."  
  
I had never actually seen someone under that particular spell; the few people able to perform it hardly run about performing it with an audience. Severus's eyes slammed shut. His body went completely rigid as he spasmed, as though frightened of some invisible force in the room. He retched; half-digested food and flecks of blood poured onto my floor, and he slumped back on the bed.  
  
I averted my eyes.  
  
When I dared to look back at the bed, they sat together, Severus trembling desperately in Albus's consoling arms. Horror haunted the Headmaster's eyes, and though I loved Albus more than anyone in the world, I would not, for anything, share that burden. He was whispering, "You did well" and calling Severus "my little one, my beloved child" over and over.  
  
"...Won't be... punished...?"  
  
"Hush, no, of course not," Albus replied. "You will not be punished. You've done nothing wrong. You will not be harmed unduly while you are under my care."  
  
"I try, Master..."  
  
"I am proud of you, Severus. You have made me proud," Albus calmed. "Minerva and I are here. We will not allow harm to befall you."  
  
Steeling my Gryffindor courage, I took a step closer to the bed and murmured, "Albus is right, Severus. We are here for you. Just tell us what you need."  
  
"Sleep?" Severus asked so hopefully that I wanted to cry. His life had come to the point that he most looked forward to sleep and that he felt he needed Albus's permission for it. "May I? Have you... finished?"  
  
Albus whispered, "Yes, my beloved child. Sleep now. Merlin knows you have earned it. You needn't take your meals in the Hall tomorrow; I will see that they are brought here for you. Would you like that?"  
  
Weakly, Severus nodded. This was glorious dispensation for him, I knew; more than anything, Severus hated spending time in social settings with large groups of people. He sagged against Albus, his eyes flittering shut, and soon, pure exhaustion overtook him. Albus realized when consciousness and left him and, carefully, the Headmaster laid the lad against the pillows on my guest bed. With practiced care, Albus draped the quilts over him.  
  
"Would you mind terribly if he spends tomorrow here, Minerva?" Albus asked as if it was a legitimate question. "He feels comfortable around you."  
  
"It is no trouble, Albus," I murmured, horrified, staring at the prone figure of my former student.  
  
"Minerva..."  
  
"Is it always this bad?"  
  
Shaking his head, Albus gently led me from the room. He closed the door behind him and cast several wards to alert him, should Severus require tending in the night. "Though tonight was by no means the worst it has ever been, it is unusually bad. Severus often avoids Voldemort's ire altogether, for he is a favored son. As such, however, his failures are punished all the more harshly."  
  
"I see," I replied. I tried to force myself to consider this an exercise, or just another report from just another random Order member. But it was neither of those things. It was Severus, the little boy I had coaxed to an E on his NEWT, the young man who had overcome more than anyone else, the man who had beat all the odds and become a functioning member of society. Despite myself, a shudder danced through my body. "Albus... Can you do nothing?"  
  
"The Legilimens is risky enough, Minerva, but Severus could easily explain that away. If I healed his wounds or did anything to ease his anguish, Voldemort would sense it. He would know. And Severus would not simply be tortured, but killed."  
  
"Can I do nothing?"  
  
Albus smiled softly and rested his hand on my face. As always, his touch sent a bit of a shiver through me. Power radiated off his very skin, deceptively papery with age. "You can be his friend, Minerva."  
  
"I am his friend."  
  
"I know you are," Albus smiled. "Let him know, too. Never let him forget."  
  
He left shortly after that conversation, exhausted from casting the Legilimens, and I removed my journal. I have written this account from the desk in my guestroom, guarding Severus's fitful sleep. I promised to protect him. I promised to make him happy. I fear now that I have failed him, that perhaps the world has failed him, and that he is too frightened to say anything about it. The poor lad. The poor, darling lad.  
  
I have never felt so helpless in all my days, and I blame He-Who-Must- Not-Be-Named for that. No matter what we do, no matter how hard we fight, he only becomes more powerful. I swear that for every person we save, he tortures and kills five more. And all I can bloody do is sit here and watch one of his victims fight with nightmares- because the nightmares are all we have left now. 


	2. Chapter Two

DISCLAIMER: The characters, locations, and most situations are not mine. I've made no money from writing this, I want no money for writing this.

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well. I never planned on making this longer, as you can obviously tell from the length of time it took for this update. However, now that I've finished it, I'm going to start posting once or twice a week until it's all up. It's about 5-7 parts, and will be AU starting in the next chapter. There might be a bit of a break when I go back to school, but not for long, so that's neither here nor there.

RESPONSES TO REVIEWS:

Severinus, Bipolar Girl, Ari, LinZE, Nebula Zirconia, alatariel-aldarion, WayStone, hawaii5063, Rosaleen, Elizabeth in April, Cal, Alex, Nameless, Grym, stocktonwood, lilyqueen777: Thank you!

Lorelei Lupin: Thanks... Yes, you're probably right, I did beat that dead horse a bit. I figured they were all so worked up that McGonagall and Dumbledore would indulge Snape and Snape wouldn't protest the indulgence.

Fennel: No worries, there's nothing more than strong friendship between Snape and McGonagall. The age difference is a bit much for me, and I think the plot is stronger without romantic relationships taking up room. I don't trust Dumbledore much myself, not after the fifth book.

Ilmare2: I'm flattered. Thank you so much.

Cucussette: Thank you! Yes, you're right, the vomiting was nasty (probably worse to write than to read, since I had to think about the best ways to describe it), but it had to do with the stress and the pain. This is, I believe, the last chapter in which reference is made to vomiting. I just wanted to make Snape seem as vulnerable as possible, physically and emotionally. And may I also say, I'm really impressed by your English!

Albus had been gone for only a handful of days, but it felt like months. I was trembling by the time I returned to my apartments that evening. With shock, with anger, with fear, I do not know. Quite possibly, all three contributed to the two attempts I took in unlocking my own door. Everything was going wrong. The castle's magic felt wrong without Albus there. My duties had increased exponentially, and one of them was apparently cleaning up after Dolores Umbridge. I was grateful to know that Severus would still be in my apartment when I returned, someone with whom I could commiserate, someone who understood what Dumbledore's disappearance meant. He probably could have left and been relatively well alone, but neither of us felt particularly like spending time alone without Dumbledore in the castle.

I never indulged myself like this, but I was willing to indulge Severus. He was, after all, rather less stable than myself.

After I dropped my bag beside the coat rack and took innumerable deep breaths, I noticed that Severus had moved himself to the generously stuffed sofa in my sitting room. He lay on it barefoot. Silently, I thanked him for his consideration even as I noted that he had also stripped to trousers and the filmy tunic he wore under those heavy damask robes. With his hair tied back and his face relaxed in sleep, he looked his age, all of thirty-seven, instead of the ageless creature I had seen for the past year.

Examining him had drawn my attention from more immediate matters, and my thigh connected solidly with the sideboard behind the sofa. We cursed in unison. Severus shot from peace, drew his wand, and had it trained on me before I could quite register what he likely planned to do. There was a long pause during which I held quite still, watching him watch me, watching the desperation flitting through his eyes as he likely struggled to place my apartment and my face in the melee of his mind. After a minute of inertia, I risked a soft, "Severus?"

The wand fell with a dull thud to the Persian rug on the floor, and he followed it down, folding himself like a jack-in-the-box. I watched his throat muscles convulse spastically and wondered—sickeningly—if he had just swallowed his vomit. When he clenched his hands together in his lap, I hurried around the sofa and helped him back onto it.

"I hope you don't mind my sleeping on the sofa," he whispered, ignoring the fact that he had just held me at wand point. There was no real point in mentioning it; I understood that he had plenty of reasons for his reflexes. He gestured to an overturned book on the floor. "I only meant to read for awhile... I must have drifted off..."

"That's perfectly all right," I assured him, forcing myself to compartmentalize my concerns.

He continued to whisper, and I was grateful that he had recognized his limitations. Attempting to speak in a normal voice would probably have torn his throat to shreds. "Minerva, I think that I may have hit my head harder than I initially thought. I may be having hallucinations... This afternoon when I woke, I swear that Lucius's old house elf spoon fed me porridge..."

"He very well may have done," I said reassuringly.

"The Headmaster hired Luc's old house elf?" His incredulous voice rasped as he raised himself up on one elbow and stared at me. "Why on earth...?"

"Why does Albus do any of the things he does?"

"I was... I was so worried."

I looked down at him, and his eyes had melted. I felt a sudden surge of the closest thing I'd ever felt to anger toward him. Later I realized the irrationality of it all, of daring to be angry with the man who was, arguably, my staunchest ally in the school at the moment. But I was too emotional for rationality at that point, and I snapped, "Don't you dare cry."

"Forgive me," he growled (more accurately, he tried to growl. It was more a sort of rasping attempt at words), "if I indulge in a bit of self-pity after having been tortured."

"You are hardly the only one with trouble tonight."

"Have you heard from the Headmaster?"

"No, no, I haven't."

"I don't mean to press," he continued more insistently, his voice taking a bit of an edge that I had not expected. "Only the Dark Lord has been active of late, and if I am summoned..."

"Severus, please-" I knew that I could not cope with the war at that moment. My own personal concerns—for Severus, for Albus, for the school—had elbowed their ways to the forefront of my mind, and if I had also to consider the war, I would completely break down. I did not have the time for that, my rational mind told me, its voice a faintly audible whisper.

"To whom will I report? To you?" His hand reached across the aisle between the sofa and the chair and fell to rest on my knee. A weak shiver of magical energy slid into me, meant, I know, to be comforting, but really barely sensible. I covered his hand with my own, and for long moments, we shared nervously contemplative silence. There was no conversation to be had. I was swirling in the whirlpool of the Ministry's inequities, barely able to draw enough breath to comfort him. "Minerva," he half-whispered, "Minerva, I need to know-"

With an apologetic smile, I drew back and said, "You will report to me until Albus returns, regarding your intelligence and your students."

"The students as well? But surely Umbridge-"

"Madam Umbridge is not my concern. With Albus away from the school, I am in charge."

I think that if he had not been so exhausted, that would have amused him somewhat. There was a flicker of a smile in his eyes, anyway, when he said, "Yes, ma'am" in that half-mocking tone he had used when he was my student.

I have yet to determine why that finally made me smile.

A loud pop interrupted us then, and that ridiculous creature called Dobby stood in the middle of my apartment wearing, of all things, one of the sweaters knit by Molly Weasley for the boys' Christmas presents and a pair of mismatched socks. "Master Severus," he said. His words ran together nervously. Not, I think, that he was frightened of Severus, but something was bothering him. "Master Severus, Dobby must speak..."

"What is it?" Not exactly patient, but not so harsh that he frightened the poor thing. Rather kinder than he'd addressed my Gryffindors.

"Angry people on the grounds, angry people who say that they will stop Hagrid from hurting more children, angry people who say that Hagrid hurt Young Master two years ago... They will hurt Hagrid..."

"Who? Do you recognize them?"

"No, Master Severus, Dobby is mostest sorry—"

"It's fine, it's fine... Do you know who brought them here?"

"Professor Umbridge is talking to them, is telling them that they must protect children from half-breeds..."

"Damn her!" I was startled by Severus's outburst, so much so that I almost did not realize that the elf had panicked at the explosion from his former master's associate. He was not fond of Hagrid by any means; Hagrid was too emotive for Severus's tastes. Sometimes, I thought that rocks were too emotive for Severus's tastes. It was respect for Dumbledore that spawned his indignation. "Damn her. Why must she do this...?"

"Severus, you'll hurt yourself, dear." No time for emotion, certainly not for my own anger. "You're not ready to face... Thank you, Dobby. I will see what is going on."

"She has Ministry wizards storming his hut at midnight. You know what is going on."

I glared him into silence and, asking Dobby to remain with him until my return, pulled my cloak back on. The run—for I did cross nearly half the castle at a job which exploded into a run when I saw Hagrid. In a combination of silver moonlight and golden firelight, he fought off no less than six attackers whose wands were trained on him as they shouted curses.

Halfway across the field, I heard Hagrid's indignant bellowing and the incessant, hysterical barking of that monster of a dog. It was the two of us against them, six of them, hulking men, all my former students, with their wands drawn. They were attacking Hagrid with Sunning Spells, charms that Flitwick taught them to protect themselves. I wondered if they saw what they were doing in that way, if they honestly believed that the children were in danger from Hagrid. Had they been afraid of Hagrid when they were at school? Or had Umbridge's insanity manifested itself in these people? In my students?

"How dare you!" I shouted, the first thing that popped into my head, the first way I could distract them. I had my wand discretely held at my side. "How dare you! Leave him alone! Alone, I say!"

I was close enough to see them now, and among them was an Auror called Dawlish who had been there the night Dumbledore left. Hot fury erupted in the pit of my stomach and dripped into my voice as I screamed: "On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such—"

I did not hear them speak the incantation. I did not see the light that I knew must have flown through the air toward me. I only felt the spring-softened ground hit my back and my head. I should have been frightened, terrified, of these strangers, or Azkaban, or what would happen to my children or to Severus who still needed tending back in the castle. I only felt the air rushing around me and the hungry pain pounding in my chest, and then I felt nothing.

And I was relieved.


	3. Chapter Three

DISCLAIMER: see the first part

A/N: The alternative universe part starts in this chapter. This is the first time I've actually subverted cannon, so I would appreciate feedback and constructive criticism.

I apologize for the long wait. I start school on Monday, and I was forced to attend orientations. Updates should come more regularly now.

RESPONSES TO REVIEWS:

Severinus, cloudshape, lilyqueen777, Heart of the Wizard, Verse: Thank you so much!

Bookwmnjan: Well, I'm sorry you didn't like it. At the same time, I kind of have to admit that I'm flattered that you found it chilling. I was aiming for that, actually. I try to portray the professors as fallible, weak, flawed people, and people do become exhausted and depressed, even Gryffindors. Thank you for the review.

Vaughn: Thank you for mentioning that. It was particularly difficult for me, since I've only ever written "between-the-scenes" stuff before. I'm glad you thought it worked.

Silverthreads: Thank you. I appreciate your pointing out the mistake, but could you tell me which paragraph it's in, maybe? I couldn't find it.

Lilith11: Thanks. I'm glad that Dumbledore unnerves you. I rather intended for him to in this case.

"And I imagine she'll need Pepper-Up," said a soft voice at the very edge of my consciousness. A chilly hand came up to my cheek, and the subtle magic ran into my face. It was all I needed to pull me the rest of the way. Severus stood over me, smiling sadly, his hair flying in an unkempt imitation of James Potter. "Minerva? Minerva? Do you know where you are?"

"It does not look like Majorca."

The smile fell immediately, and he asked, "Were you in Majorca, Minerva?"

"No, you daft boy," I grumbled. My voice sounded disgustingly weak, but I was glad that Severus seemed to be the only person within hearing distance. He would understand that no one else must know that I had displayed such weakness. The room was small, and the stone walls were windowless. Tapestries hung, a fire burned, and candles guttered, making the room look as it must have when the castle was first built. Though warm, the bed was small, too small to be my own, and the room was far too green. I took a guess. "I believe this is your guest bedroom, is it not?"

"It is."

"Master Severus?" I turned my head the other way, and Dobby the house elf stood with phials on a tray.

"Thank you." Severus levitated them across the bed and began measuring and mixing this and that. His hands blurred, and I blinked my eyes in an attempt to clear my vision. It failed. When he handed me a small glass full of aquamarine liquid, I drank unquestioningly. "You'll feel better in a few hours... Would you like to go to St. Mungo's? Poppy thinks it is for the best."

"No." I tried to sound firm.

"I told her that you wouldn't approve." He rested his hand on my forehead, apparently to check for a fever, and nodded. "Shall we consider ourselves even?"

"I never held you in my debt."

"I did. Shall we consider ourselves even?"

When he repeated the question, I realized just how serious he was. I sighed, "Of course, Severus."

At my request, he explained what had happened during Hagrid's escape and how the children, particularly the fifth years who had seen my exploits during their Astronomy OWL had reacted. Apparently, the school buzzed with its usual outlandish gossip, and the Slytherins were perpetuating rumors by sharing my whereabouts with the rest of the students. Worrying about something so inane actually calmed me. I could handle interoffice politics. It was a relief, then, when Severus offered to read aloud until I fell back asleep. (He was irritatingly insistent that I sleep as much as possible, which seemed ridiculous considering that I had been unconscious for nearly twelve hours.)

I must have drifted off, however, for when I woke, Severus was in the middle of a stanza, his voice raw from too much use, and his own eyes drooping. I was prepared to protest his stopping. Then I heard it too, a desperate rapping on the apartment's outer door. When I made no protest, Severus set down the blue leather anthology. He rose as he straightened his outer robes. Patiently, he said, "That's likely Draco in a panic about his History of Magic exam. You know how he worries... I may be awhile."

"Of course," I said as dismissively as I could. I could only imagine how my own students were coping. Miss Granger was likely having every kind of fit imaginable, and Marcus McGregor probably went catatonic after his last NEWT. The boy had been studying ten hours a day for the past three months. I should be with them. If I had not been so headstrong, so damned foolish, I could have done something. I could have been up there in the Tower reassuring them, comforting them as surely as Severus was calming Draco.

The fit of self-pity was interrupted by an explosion from the sitting room. I felt a pulse of unrestrained magic, the storminess unique to an adolescent's loss of control. Draco Malfoy would never have been so careless to let his magic control his emotions, so I slipped carefully out of bed and made slow progress to the door to listen to the conversation.

I head voices from the entryway beyond the sitting room. Draco Malfoy's was not among them. "Please, Harry, calm down!" Hermione Granger exclaimed. Her voice was shrill and panicked. Apparently, it was Mr. Potter's rogue magic wreaking havoc with Severus's breakables. "We have to see her. It's urgent!"

"Professor McGonagall is not a well woman, Miss Granger. Kindly leave my apartment." He had affected the voice he used in the classroom, ice and velvet pouring over the words.

Harry Potter fairly screamed, "If it was anyone else, you wouldn't-!"

"Detention, Potter."

"Did you just give him detention for... Bloody bastard-"

I laughed. I'll admit that it was unprofessional and juvenile, but I never tired of hearing students' reactions to Severus. Of course, I would have to severely reprimand Mr. Weasley for addressing a teacher so disrespectfully, but I could postpone that until I officially resumed my duties.

Miss Granger exclaimed, "Don't help me, Ronald!" I could easily imagine the look on her face, the affectionate exasperation that so often mauled her features when she spoke to Mr. Weasley or Mr. Potter. Her voice became an undercurrent of pleading. She made a soft squeak when I heard the tinkling of broken glass hitting the stone floor. Any pretense at calm left her voice, and she begged, "Please, Professor Snape, people could die if we don't see her! Please!"

"Severus," I called as loudly as I could. The other students were prone to gross exaggeration, but Miss Granger seldom did. I was apt to trust her. Severus swooped back into the hall and fixed his glower on me. I was momentarily aware of why the students so feared him. "What has so upset Weasley, Granger, and Potter?"

"They have declined to tell me, citing my alleged prejudice against Black."

I looked at him, expecting more, but none came. "Show them in, Severus."

"Minerva-"

"Severus," I overrode him, my voice slicing through even his infamous ice, "we agreed that you would not do this. Show them into the room immediately."

For a moment, I thought he wanted to attack me. Rather, I thought he was going to do. I suppose that the number of times I'd been at wandpoint over the past few weeks, it was something of a given that I would be mildly paranoid. Then, he raised his eyes to the ceiling so much like the children he detested. "I would ask you to remember this when they send you into fits."

After helping me onto the sofa, he left the room and returned brief moments later with two breathless students in tow. Miss Granger paled when he gaze fell on me. She officially looked more panicked than I had ever seen her; she was clinging to Weasley's arm. Before her, Mr. Potter's fingers played with the hem of his t-shirt and looked ready to vomit. "Now, tell me what brought you down here unescorted." I tried very hard to sound harsh that they would dare to disregard Umbridge's orders.

"I was trying to concentrate on... on my OWL, but I saw... Professor McGonagall... Vold-You-Know-Who has Sirius at the Department of Mysteries. It was just like my dream last summer. He's going to kill Sirius!"

Miss Granger gave a soft sob and quickly covered her mouth as if she'd just screamed a disgusting swear word.

"I see," I said. My mind swirled. Not for the first time, I had to squelch the desire to hate Albus for leaving me in charge. It is nearly impossible to remember that the man does not know everything when, Merlin knows, he walks around exuding omniscience. I did what any good schoolteacher would do. I hid behind logic and rules. "We will temporarily ignore the fact that you should have learned to close your mind to such visions by now and look at this objectively. Have you spoken to Mr. Black recently?"

"Y-yes, ma'am, we spoke the night... the night Fred and George left."

"I will not ask how you managed that. Did he seem concerned?"

"No, I guess not..."

"Professor, you know... Sirius hasn't been in his right mind recently. He might not have noticed a threat, so... I told Harry that maybe we could... Maybe you could give us permission to contact him or, or at least Professor Lupin."

Reluctantly, I shook my head. "You know that Professor Umbridge watches the fires very closely."

"It was a distraction," Severus said, and I recognized the tone of voice. He had worked out something he had been considering for awhile. "The Weasleys left when they did so that you could contact London."

"We may have discussed it," said Miss Granger noncommittally. She gasped and straightened. "What if we could do it again? Professor McGonagall, would you call... London... if we could manufacture some distraction?"

"What do you think, Severus?" I asked softly. As ill and stretched as I was, I did not trust myself to make the decision. It was quite possible that I was letting my emotions get in the way of the objectivity Albus had tried to teach me.

He murmured, "There are no plans to go after Black."

"You are privy to You-Know-Who's every plan?"

"I am not, as you well know, but Lucius has not mentioned it either," he said. He looked at me, his eyes veiled.

"Lucius Malfoy does not tell you everything."

"Near enough to it. He would tell me this. He would think that it would please me."

"See? Hermione, I told you!" Weasley exclaimed, and Miss Granger slapped him on the back of his head.

"Believe me when I tell you that informing Lucius Malfoy that I have allied myself with Sirius Black would do nothing to secure the mutt's safety." He turned back to me and whispered, "Is that what you would have me do? Ask Lucius? He would suspect."

The response was not as straightforward as the students had obviously expected. Lucius and Severus had been close friends for decades and trusted each other with nearly everything. In the back of my mind, I had long suspected that Lucius knew where Severus's loyalties lied and did what he could to divert suspicion. Perhaps their friendship was enough. "Would he do anything about his suspicion? His family is allied with the Blacks."

"Narcissa does not dictate his movements, and Sirius is not technically, legally a member of the family any more."

"We don't need the bloody Malfoys," Potter said, spitting out the name like a mouthful of liver and onions, "just someone to keep Umbridge's attention away from the fires long enough."

Hermione spoke up softly. "She does hate Harry and me quite actively. Sir, if you were to take us up to her office and tell her that you found us... I don't know, something dreadful..."

"Necking in the bushes," said Ron, and Hermione shot him a scandalized glare.

"She would likely beat you," Severus said. He sounded less delighted than I imagine the children expected him to be. That it had come down to that at Hogwarts, that children at Hogwarts had to actually fear beatings, sickened me. I fell against the pillows.

Potter exclaimed, "I don't care!"

"Nor do I," Hermione whispered, though without the same enthusiasm.

"Then I cannot allow this," I said so firmly that all three of them looked at me, obviously shocked at my forcefulness. "We'll have to find another-"

"Do the Legilimens," Potter said suddenly, and he turned to Severus with pleading eyes. For obvious reasons, this was his last resort, and I almost vetoed it out of hand. "You'll be able to tell if Vold-You-Know-Who put it there, won't you? You could tell with the dreams."

"I could tell with the dreams because it was perfectly obvious that you had never been in the Department of Mysteries, and I know that the Dark Lord has been."

"But maybe you could. If you won't let me call him, you have to at least do this!"

"Potter..." I thought he was going to protest, to be the voice of reason that we so obviously needed. However, after a moment of silent contemplation, he said, "Very well. Come here. Do not fight me, and I will do my best to make this quick."

Potter crossed the room quickly. The look of apprehension on his face confused me. I had to wonder if it was fear of what Severus was about to do, or what he might find once there. I assumed it was the latter because, ducking his head with more manners than I had ever seen him use before, he said, "Thank you, sir."

"Deep breath," Severus said, once again as calm as ever. He pulled his wand out of the folds of his robe, pointed it, and said, "Legilimens."

He did it as gently as possible, I know, because Harry barely flinched. Sagging slightly, Severus's eyes widened, and he dropped his wand to the ground. Severus fell onto the edge of the sofa while the boy folded onto the floor. Miss Granger flew to his side. She cradled him against her chest, stroking his hair while he fought with his tears, and looked up at us. "What did you see, Professor?" Weasley asked in a tiny voice.

"I told you it was unlikely that I could make any determination, but... I think it best if we contact Lupin."

"Oh, God," Harry whispered. He strained against Hermione's restraining arms, but she held him more tightly. "Let me go, Hermione!"

Every piece of glass in the room exploded, and Hermione began to sob hysterically as she flung herself over Harry to protect him from the shards. Severus whipped his wand out and transformed all the glass back to sand. It sprinkled over me and the children harmlessly, and he sighed. Meanwhile, Harry Potter, either distraught at his friend's state of mind, at what he had seen, or at the ambiguity of Severus's response, followed suit.

I knew that in my current state I could not cope with two hysterical children, and Severus was never in any condition to do so. On top of everything else, he wove where he sat, looking lost and nauseous. It was only a few weeks ago that he had been unconscious in my guestroom. How could I expect him to rectify this melodrama unfolding in his own? Attempting to sound authoritative, I said, "Yes. Yes. Forget Umbridge. I will accept any consequences... Contact Remus. Tell him to find Black as quickly as possible."


	4. Chapter Four

AN: I cannot apologize enough for the delay. I underestimated my course load this semester, and believe me, I've been suffering more for it than you have. Anyway, this next part is a lot shorter than I expected, only half of what I intended on posting, because I want to tweak the second bit of the chapter in light of a conversation (read: fight) I had with my friend this weekend about werewolves in the Potterverse.

I'm choosing to ignore the "reliable methods of communication" that the Order has according to Dumbledore because I don't know what they are, and I don't want to speculate.

RESPONSES TO REVIEWERS:

Severinus: The answer to the question you very subtly hinted at lies within!

Lilith11, lilyqueen777, LinZE, Morgana-Alexa, MorotheWolfGod: Thank you for waiting!

Silverthreads: Thanks! You were right, that was something that never got from my head to the computer. It's fixed now.

Cloudnine: Thank you! I'm glad that you commented on the characterization as this was, at first, meant to be only a character study (as the lack of plot no doubt indicates).

Melissa Jooty: I am completely floored to hear from you. I've read "The Taming of Harry Potter" (and am, incidentally, delighted to see you've updated! Your Dumbledore is human that I actually feel alright sympathizing with him which, as you've probably noticed, I usually don't). My philosophy for fanfiction is that... well, basically, we see the world only through Harry's very skewed view in the books. The teachers have lives outside what Harry knows of them. This is my attempt to create the adults in Harry's world as actual characters, not just stock figures that float in and out. I'm so glad that you appreciate it!

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Exhausted into silence, I waited with my students while Severus disappeared into his study to contact Remus Lupin. He returned in less than fifteen minutes and assured us in an oddly gentle voice that he would arrive shortly with "that mutt." I had not even the energy to protest the rashness of Sirius's coming to the school. With Severus's help, I barely made it onto the sofa in his living room where we began what felt like an interminable wait.

I have always been a patient person. Working with children, one rather must be. There are, however, incidents which try that patience, and this was one of them. Visions of my brief visits to Azkaban flitted through my mind with alarming speed and in repugnant detail, men whose downfalls I had caused, whose hands I had personally bound; former students sleeping in pools of their own vomit; Severus clinging to Albus when we came to liberate him after his trial, unable to walk or even stand on his own. By bringing Sirius back to Hogwarts, we were opening that door again, for all of us. It was a decision that Albus may very well have made, but that, even then, I felt certain that I oughtn't to have.

The children sat on the hearth, pressed tightly together, silent except for the occasional repressed sob from Hermione, and Severus sat at a desk just past them, a quill skimming deftly over parchment. I was grateful for his attempt at normalcy in the taut silence. More than any of us, he knew what we faced. Damned if we brought him: Umbridge would likely discover our deception, damned by his godson's impulsiveness if we forced him to stay.

Severus had explained to me in furtive whispers that the house elf had attempted to lie to him about Sirius's whereabouts. If he had not been the gifted Legilimens that he was (thanks to Albus... I felt my anger dim—mildly), he said that he feared he would have believed Kreacher and sent the Order to the Department of Mysteries immediately. A quick firecall upstairs had cleared up any suspicion, and both of my former students were on their way to the safety of Hogwarts.

A knock on the door elicited an exclamation from Hermione. Severus shot her a withering glare before crossing the room to admit Remus Lupin. Clad in a threadbare burgundy sweater and pants that were worn at the knee, he looked almost well, save for the nervous energy crackling in his eyes. A large, black dog entered behind him, and as soon as the door had closed, it sprung into Sirius. Without sparing a nod for Severus or myself, he sprinted across the room and gathered Harry into his arms. Neither seemed to mind indulging the other in public.

"Are you all right?" Sirius asked softly. His voice was raw with violent emotions. I had never heard him so distraught, though I could imagine there had been times... that I could not consider. The present was too tumultuous to consider a stormy past.

Harry gave a choking gasp, and his fingers opened and closed spastically around Sirius's hair and collar. "He performed the Cruciatus on you, over and over, and I thought it was real, and Professor Snape didn't know, I thought you were dead, I thought he was going to kill you, too!"

"Harry, I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"Nothing's bloody fine!" Harry exclaimed.

"Shh... all right, no, it's not, but you have to calm down. Do you have any idea what could happen if you let yourself get so worked up?"

"No, I don't! I can't!" Before I quite knew what was happening, the touching reunion turned into a full on assault as Harry's too-small fists began to pound against Sirius's chest. "What's wrong with you? Nothing's fine! What the hell are you doing here? If she finds you, she's going to send you back! If you were-!"

Sirius's huge hand captured Harry's wrists behind his back, and the other arm drew Harry close. Harry bucked against the restraint, but Sirius only tightened his grip. "Do you know what could have happened?" His voice was harsher than I could have imagined. All I remembered of him were hours of jokes and light, airy laughter floating through the common room even hours past curfew. Sirius Black is an adult now, and that is perhaps the most frightening revelation of the year.

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered again, so miserably that I wanted to run across the room and reassure him somehow. But Severus was sitting on his desk and watching with interest but no concern, and Remus was smoothing Hermione's hair to comfort her. I was the only person who seemed not to understand that this had to be a moment between the two of them.

"Well?"

"Voldemort was trying to lure me out of the castle so he could kill me," Harry whispered. The wisdom in his voice made me feel like I had just landed from a particularly violent broom ride. No child should be able to speak like that. "It was just like they said he would. I guess I... I mean, I... I should have tried harder."

"Yeah, well... You'll try harder now, won't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right, then," Sirius said. He leaned over and kissed the top of his godson's hair. Reassuringly, he pulled back and waited for Harry to look up at him. "Everything _will be _all right. Tonks will find me a safe house, and the Headmaster will take care of Kreacher, and within a few weeks, everything will be back to normal. I promise."

"Okay," Harry whispered.

"You're grounded the first week of summer, by the way," Sirius added gravely. "Homework, cleaning, eating, and sleeping. That's it."

That almost made me laugh. I never thought I would live to see the day when Sirius Black would ground someone, much less this child. I expected Potter to put up some sort of fight, to argue like a solicitor that he had done nothing to merit such a severe punishment, but he only sighed dramatically before nodding.

"Someone has to contact the Headmaster," Severus finally said. His eyes found some distant point, and he murmured, "He's not going to be pleased."

Remus murmured, "I'll tell him. When I get back home, I'll tell him... if he doesn't already know. He might already know. Tonks might have-"

There was a sharp knock on the outer door, and he fell silent.

Sirius kissed Harry one last time and transformed. Severus hissed, "Into the guestroom. Now."

For once, the children obeyed him without question, closing the door behind them. Remus took a seat across from Severus, and he conjured a tea service while Severus answered the door.


	5. Chapter Five

DISCLAIMER: Not mine.

A/N: A few references are made to my one-shot "Interrogation" in this chapter. You could either read that, or just take it for granted that Remus was hauled in for a rather violent interrogation after James and Lily were murdered (after all, he was obviously a suspect. His best friends suspected him).

RESPONSES TO REVIEWERS:

Severinus: Thanks for mentioning that! I was concerned that people might see it as too harsh coming from "Padfoot," but after all, Harry could have died if he'd left Hogwarts.

Oya: You'll find out presently! Thanks for the review!

Phinea Rouge, MorotheWolfGod, LinZE, chickens, Alynna, lilyqueen777: Thank you!

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A tense silence, punctuated by Severus's clipped steps to the door filled his sitting room. My right hand lightly rested against the handle of my wand, and I noted with a satisfied smile that Remus's had fallen against his pocket as well. Before I had much time to allow my imagination to float over the possible implications of our visitor, Severus spoke from the hallway.

"Good evening, Madam Umbridge." His voice, slightly louder than usual, floated back to us.

I heard Remus whisper an obscenity but did not bother reprimanding him. He seldom uses profanity, and if I did, I would likely have said the same thing. His hand fell to rest on the head of the large dog suddenly beside him. Of course this was the worst possible turn of events; no one in the room could claim to have anything passing for decent (let alone good) luck. She hated everyone Fudge told her to hate. Death Eaters, Sirius Black, werewolves... At some point, I do believe that freethinkers made the list, though I did not receive the owl. I had faced four armed Aurors the day before. I could easily face this thing. My students could as well, and I knew it. Nodding my encouragement as best I could, I turned to the door where Dolores Umbridge followed Severus inside. That woman closely resembled a diseased toad; I almost wanted to ask Severus to give her a potion for that.

Remus rose. Already, he was removing a sheaf of papers from the inner pockets of his tattered jeans. His fingers were shaking so badly that he almost dropped them, and when her gaze fell on him, she demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting an old classmate," Severus said smoothly from behind her.

"I was unaware that you had run in the same circles, Severus."

"One is drawn to one's intellectual peers, especially in a school where anyone with enough money to pay the tuition and enough power to perform the Levitation Charm is admitted. More tea, Remus?"

"N-no, thank you, Severus," he whispered.

"You seem nervous, Mr. Lupin," she said in that saccharine voice that made me long for even Sybil Trelawney's spacey slurring. "Perhaps you would like to tell me why."

"Your... your rings, Madam." Remus whispered. At first, I thought that age had dulled his reflex to lie to authority, but then she automatically brought her hands up before her face to examine the rings on her cotton-candy fingers. They glinted silver in the suddenly cold firelight. Behind Remus, a look suspiciously like sympathy flew across Severus's face before he could hide it. I looked away from Remus, from his barely controlled terror, before I could fall upon that sorry excuse for a witch.

She looked smugly satisfied that her rings had incurred such a reaction. I supposed that she might wear them only to keep werewolves away. Merlin knows that her magic is not powerful enough to keep one at bay. Even in his human forms, Remus's reaction was far from mild.

"Yes. They're quite lovely, aren't they?" Umbridge said. Like an obese penguin, she waddled across the room and glowered up at Remus, who was stuck between her and the chair. His breaths had begun to stumble in ragged little gasps. "Let's see your registration papers, Mr. Lupin."

He handed them to her, his fingers pinched carefully around the corner. When her fingers purposefully brushed his, he recoiled with a strangely wolfish whimper. Sirius snarled. Walking around the chair, Severus kicked him sharply. My heart seized for a moment. The notorious Black temper would not take that insult well, but it seemed that perhaps the dog was a bit more temperate than the man, for the dog snapped his jaws once before retiring to Remus's side.

"These are all in order," Umbridge said, and I swear that she sounded utterly disappointed. She moved to cross the room, keeping her eyes on me as she walked and spoke. "Apparently Dumbledore does appreciate the necessity of select laws. Or perhaps he just enjoys keeping a leash on his pet werewolf."

"Yes, ma'am," Remus whispered.

I could no longer restrain myself, and though I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I would regret the words later, I said, "Dolores, you are the only person in this room who requires a leash."

She pretended not to have heard me and, in a distinctly forced tone, she said, "It occurs to me that perhaps you have been in communication with some people to whom I would very much like to speak, Mr. Lupin."

"Is that so?" Remus replied, cradling his trembling hand close to his chest.

"You have, perhaps, heard from Sirius Black?"

"Madam Umbridge, the moon is waxing," Severus said, a tactful reminder that Remus was not in his best mental or physical health and likely would react poorly to the stress from such a line of questioning.

"Have you heard from Black?" She demanded.

"No, of course not," Remus whispered, and his eyes had swelled slightly. If I had not known better, I would have believed him. "I've been hiding from him for the past two years."

"You honestly expect me to believe that?"

"Believe what you will. That's the truth." The words, not the tone, were impertinent.

Quirking a caterpillar-like eyebrow, she said, "How dare you speak to me like that? I would not be out of bounds to arrest you right now for endangering the children in this school."

"I-I wouldn't hurt a child." He seldom stammered. The hesitance in his usually confident voice suggested that she had already succeeded in unnerving him. Mentioning Sirius, who was standing only a few inches away, was enough to make even the usually composed men fidget in their places.

"Then why is it that you resigned from your position here?" She demanded in a saccharine drawl.

Across the room, Severus sighed.

"I don't... I don't..." Remus dropped his gaze into his lap.

"Dolores, you are treating this man unjustly," I snapped. My voice sounded hoarse even in my own ears, not at all intimidating as I had intended. "Any fool could see that he is unwell."

Umbridge continued her attack on Remus, whose fingers had begun to flutter on the top of Sirius's head. "If I recall, you did not complete a rotation of Wolfsbane and nearly attacked a group of students and a professor... Professor Snape, I do believe."

"Sirius Black was in the castle. I had to warn Harry... Things got out of hand. I meant to take the potion. Headmaster Dumbledore cleared up all the legal issues ages ago, when he sent me to—into hiding."

"Mr. Lupin, I believe that you are hiding something from me."

"I have nothing to hide."

The dog was growling fiercely in the back of his throat, and across the room, Severus was struggling to look disinterested, thumbing ever more rapidly through one a thick text that had obviously not been off its shelf in ages. My fingers had tightened on my wand. In my throat and stomach, my blood pounded wildly, and my mind kept screaming, she knows, she knows.

"You know that the laws for questioning your kind by Ministry officials. If you tell me what you know of Black, you needn't return to Azkaban... where you belong..." So that was her game. She wanted to capture Sirius Black.

"Yes." Resentful and terse, tight and frightened. I remembered his interrogations after Lily and James died. He looked worse than some of You-Know-Who's victims.

"Do you remember your time with us, Mr. Lupin?"

"Not very well, no."

"Perhaps you require a reminder. I do need to loosen your tongue." She rose, withdrawing her wand, and said, "Crucio."

A slick lump of ice formed in my stomach, and I stunned the charging black dog before he could transform. The guestroom door banged open, and the students ran into the room, rushing toward Remus.

Before they could reach him, Severus had jumped between him and Umbridge, wand extended. "Propugnator," Severus exclaimed, pointing his wand at Remus. The spells met, and the light from Dolores's wand fizzled beneath the pure glow from Severus's. He turned on Umbridge and growled, "Capere!"

Her wand clattered to the floor as her arms were snapped to her sides. There were several long moments of silence punctuated by ragged breathing after which Severus said, "Why, Madam Umbridge, do you have any idea what is done to people who perform that curse?"

"The public will hardly blame me for attacking that thing!"

"If you had used any other curse, perhaps they would have done," Severus replied. He picked her wand from the ground and handed it to Remus. With his infamous calculating gaze fixed on Umbridge, he came to lean on the edge of the sofa, just above my head. "I believe that we can work something out, don't you, Minerva?"

I smiled up at him. Sometimes, I wish that I could have been in Slytherin. There is certainly something admirable about that house, a quiet cunning, that Gryffindor lacks. "I'm sure something can be arranged."

"Arranged?" She asked in a panic.

"You performed and Unforgivable, Professor Umbridge," Harry Potter whispered, and his voice was an odd mixture of elation and terror. He was helping Remus back to the chair as Hermione prepared a cup of tea for the poor boy. "There are witnesses. You're bound for Azkaban."

"No... No, I can't go there! I would die!"

"I don't think you're that lucky," Remus said softly. His voice was shaking, his eyes huge and fixed on the statue of his friend beside his chair. He fell back with ragged breaths. "Thank you, Hermione."

"Would you like anything else, sir?" Hermione asked, and I had the distinct impression that the quiet respect with which she spoke was just to irritate Umbridge.

"I'm fine." He pressed her hand, tender, paternal comfort that earned a timorous smile.

"Minerva, I believe it is your place to stipulate the conditions," Severus said. Our eyes locked, and I saw just the slightest twinge of amusement beneath the serious tone.

"Remus?"

"As you wish," he said softly.

I had been waiting for this moment since Albus told me that this awful woman was coming to Hogwarts, daydreaming of it every time she set foot in my path. "Get out of my school."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I told you. Undo what you have done. Leave my school, and no one will ever hear of this."

She had no choice. I will not say that I was proud of having to resort to blackmail to defeat the Ministry, but when one allies oneself with Slytherins, it is the best that can be expected. From the amused glint in Remus's exhausted eyes as we watched her (each leaning heavily on Severus for support—he did not seem pleased) hobble away from the Apparation wards weighted down with her own disgusting belongings, I cannot believe that I have made the wrong decision.


	6. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: see earlier parts.

A/N: This is it! Thanks to everyone who stuck through to the end. I hope you enjoyed it. There will likely be a lull for awhile while I try to sort through my notebook and find a scribble that I want to expand on, but I'm still here!

Stocktonwood: Thank you! I hope I can manage to convert you; McGonagall is a wonderful character.

Mon, Morothewolfgod, lilyqueen777, LinZE, Lilith11, bookwmnjan: Thank you.

------

Just before dinner that day, I reclined on a chaise in my bedroom to examine my seventh years' final essays. They had secured my spirits somewhere above the Tower, as well-written assignments did. Nothing convinces a teacher of her potency like students who do their work with heart. Nothing reassures me that I've made the right choices in my life like a thoughtfully penned footnote. My chest felt much better, and though my leg still felt like a hippogriff was sitting on me, the feeling had begun to return. So I considered it a good sign.

I was so caught up in the elation of banality that I was unaware that Severus was standing behind me until he said, "You cannot possibly be so engrossed in... Michael Doyle's essay."

Most other people would take offense at that, the tone and the words. But I had spent enough time with Severus, especially of late, to catch the underlying note in his voice, not elation or ecstasy, but perhaps satisfaction. It was a strange emotion for him, of all people, for as dearly as I held him, he was fastidious to a fault, especially regarding his own work.

"I hate to disappoint you, but I am," I replied, but I set it aside to placate him.

"I will have to reintroduce you to the research journals, I see." He sat in my desk chair with a wan smile, rubbing long, aristocratic fingers together, savoring the simple sensuality of the contact. "You know I was with Potter just now?"

His mentioning Harry at all suggested the gravity of our impending discussion, as, despite appearances, he really does think about the boy as infrequently as possible. "Were you? What on earth could you have to do with that brat?"

His glare was all the acknowledgement my teasing received. "After the debacle last week, I could not, in good conscience, ignore him any longer."

It was all I could do not to point at the altruism of this act. He would not appreciate it, and I was unwilling to insult him when I knew it must be difficult for him. I had seen what Legilimency did, after all, and I could only imagine the strain weekly lessons must put on his magic and his fragile mind.

The best I could do, as Albus had said, was to be his friend. "How did it go?" I asked kindly.

"He was late," said Severus, again as cheerful as ever. "He had been speaking to Lupin, so I only gave him one night's detention."

"That was generous of you," I said, stifling a laugh.

Severus gave a shallow bow from his seat and continued. "It went on as it always does for the first half hour or so, but then... He managed it, Minerva. Oh, he has the subtlety of a shovel to the skull, but he sent me flying out of his mind and halfway across the room."

"Oh, Severus!" I exclaimed delightedly. No wonder he sounded so pleased with himself. Teaching Occlumency, especially to someone as blunt as Harry Potter, was a laudable accomplishment. "Severus, that's wonderful. I'm so pleased."

"Yes," he said softly and simply, "so am I."

"Were you very badly hurt when he threw you?"

Like I had just asked him what purpose a bezoar served, he raised an eyebrow at me. I matched his gaze with one I've been repeatedly told is equally severe until he looked away and said, "Hardly at all. I caught myself just before I hit the ground."

"I hope Mr. Potter appreciates what he has done?"

He smiled wryly. "I am uncertain. He began to cheer rather vivaciously when I fell, but that may well have been..."

"Because you fell. Yes, I see your quandary. I suppose I ought to him regarding it."

"I imagine that you will impress the importance of it better than anyone else," Severus smiled, and I think he was mocking me.

"Will he accomplish it if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named makes another attempt to enter his mind, with the distance?"

He replied, "I cannot say for certain, but I suppose I am optimist-"

Across the sweeping property, the clock chimed six times to call the castle's inhabitants to dinner. Chatter and exclamations from Gryffindors (who are, even I will admit, the most boisterous house) interrupted our conversation almost at once, and we sighed in almost perfect unison. Albus had deemed attendance at meals compulsory, as he considered it an opportunity for us to set another fine example for our charges. I secretly supposed that he used it as an opportunity to eavesdrop on those staff members for whom he was concerned, but I could never find any evidence to support my supposition, save that Severus and Remus agreed with me when I mentioned it to them (separately, as I'm sure that one would have disagreed just to be contrary to the other).

"-tic. Will you be joining us this evening?"

"Yes. At least, I will join you for the meal," I replied quietly. I had not put in enough appearances, and I imagined that the children would want to see me well.

We walked to the Hall together with Severus moderating his usually long strides to accommodate my cane-aided hobble. The meal progressed normally. With NEWT and OWL testing over, the seventh and fifth years had begun the semi-hysterical rejoicing that followed months of constant stress. They brought their classmates with them. I watched Severus grasp his utensils so tightly that the bones stuck from beneath the translucent skin, and for once, I understood his discomfort.

Before I could reach across the aisle to comfort him, the doors opened at the end of the hall opened. I rose to castigate whichever miscreants chose not to observe the strictly imposed mealtimes, but I fell immediately back into my chair with shock when I saw the entrant.

Albus.

After months without a sign, without a word, without a glimpse, he stood in the Great Hall where he belonged in all his glory. In those unmistakable purple robes that swept the floor behind him and shimmered in the early summer sunlight from the ceiling.

"Good evening, children," he said, as nonchalant as if he had just encountered them on a stroll.

A few students replied in awed whispers; even the teachers sounded mildly overwhelmed as they rose to greet the Headmaster. When he reached the Head Table, he started at one end to greet his faculty. He reached me and smiled gently. "Minerva."

"Albus," I said, and to my disgust, my voice was choked.

"You, my girl, are a marvel." I would have turned anyone else into a teacup for addressing me so, but from him, the endearment only made me laugh and shake my head. He kissed both cheeks, and I felt my face flame that he should be so affectionate before the entire school.

In a voice barely a whisper to hide the quiver, I said, "I'm so glad you've returned."

He graced me with a smile, and eyes twinkling, he moved on across the aisle to where Severus stood. Albus's approach altered his usual imposing stance. Before the Headmaster, he seemed smaller than he had all those nights in our apartments, like he had made himself seem smaller to accommodate Albus's hugeness. For long moments, no words were exchanged, for no words could encompass the emotions telegraphing like mad between ice and sea. They were in one another's minds, I realized with a start, showing one another what the weeks' separation had brought. For almost a minute, I thought I was jealous, but I could not chase from my head the image of Severus broken in my apartment, the spell careening through him like a cursed broomstick. No. They could have their bond. I did not want that responsibility.

Albus's hand came to rest on Severus's cheek, but he dropped his gaze immediately at the contact. They had done.

"You've succeeded?"

"The boy has succeeded," Severus replied softly. Not correcting Albus, just self-deprecating, as usual.

Now, Albus's voice shook; he made no attempt to conceal it. He spoke only four words, words that echoed through the entire hall, a benediction to those who understood and an enigma to those who did not. "Thank you, my son."

There was a beat of silence during which he could not speak. I watched Severus's throat work convulsively in unison with his fingers. "Yes, sir," he managed, a vaguely appropriate response.


End file.
